


The Doom of Chat Blanc

by Brezifus



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Akumatized Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chat Blanc - Freeform, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Family Issues, Gen, Identity Reveal, Ladybug Being A Good Hero Always And Forever, my first real ML fic after actually seeing s1 way back in the day, written before s2 was released
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2021-01-16 16:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21274577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brezifus/pseuds/Brezifus
Summary: Chat Noir knows who Hawkmoth is, and takes Ladybug to him without further explanation. She readied herself for the final battle, but nothing could prepare her for what happened next.





	The Doom of Chat Blanc

**Author's Note:**

> hey all! Looks like I wrote this some time in 2016, tumblr dates it as June 17, 2016 anyways! So this was back when s2 was only just starting to be teased. Tumblr ML fandom was really broad and fun as I recall, just a ton of creativity and speculation and wonderful ideas being shared everywhere.
> 
> This was my first contribution after actually having watched s1. I really have NO heads or tails of the AO3 tags for this fandom so any suggestions would be welcome. Enjoy!

_I know who Hawkmoth is._

Chat Noir had wasted no time in saying it. His voice was dark, urgent—and before Ladybug could question further or start to work out a plan to confront and capture him, he was off, a black streak leaping from building to building. Usually he looked elegant, maybe even showing off, but this time he was direct, precise, almost like a weapon. Ladybug’s heart raced in her chest, pounding with anticipation. She followed him.

Part of her screamed at herself. She wasn’t ready for this, they _both _weren’t ready for this, but then she thought of a wise old saying, that if she kept worrying over the right time when they were both perfectly ready, then she’d be waiting forever. Alya must have told her that one—albeit in the context of confessing her feelings to Adrien. Change the words and add some sass and it would sound right coming from her mouth. Confidence, Ladybug. The time was now.

The place was…the dome of the Agreste mansion?

Chat Noir kicked in the windows, landing in a shimmer of broken glass that mimicked the wings of the white butterflies in the room. Ladybug wasn’t far behind him, landing solidly on the floor with her fists clenched and blue eyes focused.

There. The dark figure in the butterflies. Sleek and stoic, arms crossed against his chest as though he hadn’t been fazed by the heroes smashing in unannounced. The butterflies parted, and she could see his miraculous, the brooch on his collar. This was the same as an akuma; get the miraculous and it would be over. _Forever_. She opened her mouth to command him to surrender, but Chat Noir rose, fists clenched and trembling. It was then that Ladybug noticed that they weren’t standing side-by-side as usual, no, Chat Noir was a few steps ahead of her. That felt unusual.

She wasn’t sure _why _it felt unusual, but it was unusual, and a knot started to form in her gut.

His spine was curled, menacing. His tail was raised in anger. Craning her neck ever so slightly forward she saw he was baring his teeth, fangs scraping against each other as he shook with fury. From the knot in her gut she started to feel fear, and while fear was no stranger to her, this was on another, dizzying level.

“So, Ladybug and Chat Noir, here to give me your miraculouses in person. How kind—,”

“_You!_” Chat Noir roared. _Roared_. Ladybug faltered, and her gaze went to her friend and partner. Cats weren’t supposed to roar! “You lying, hypocritical piece of _shit!_”

Ladybug was stunned. No puns. No playfulness. None of the steadfast Chat Noir she had come to roll her eyes at while fighting back-to-back against akuma with. She felt her knees go weak, so she locked them into position, hoping Hawkmoth didn’t see her falter.

The villain himself raised his brows, regarding Chat Noir in surprise for a moment. Something seemed to dawn on his face, something more human than Ladybug thought him capable of, but he soon wiped that away, continuing to be a blank, evil slate.

“What…_what_…,” Chat Noir’s hands opened, claws raking at the air as if he could grasp answers in the butterflies around him, “What do you _want?! _What did you _want from me?!_ What was it that you _needed_ more than anything else but _me?!_”

Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. Chat Noir knew who Hawkmoth was, because Chat Noir knew Hawkmoth outside of being Hawkmoth. Oh.

Oh no.

Hawkmoth opened his mouth to speak but Chat Noir swiped a paw at a butterfly, ordering his silence as he continued, “Was it mom? Was it all for mom? Do you think you’re doing this for _her?_”

Ladybug felt the knot tighten like a noose.

“_Mom’s dead! She’s gone! _And she's—she’s _not _coming back!” His shoulders were shaking now more to keep the tears at bay than in rage, “Do you think what you’re doing is what she wanted? Do you think this is in her memory? _Do you really think this would honor her?!_ _Do you think this would make her _happy?!”

Hawkmoth narrowed his eyes, “I had suspicions…,”

“Do you think she would care about _this?!_ Do you think she didn’t care about _us?!_” Chat Noir roared as if he couldn’t hear Hawkmoth’s deep voice, “Do _you _care about _us?!_ About you and me? About _her?!_ Do you?! _Do you?!!!_”

“I had suspicions that you were him.” Hawkmoth finished as if he hadn’t been interrupted. Ladybug shivered at his unchanged tone of voice, shivered at her friend’s unraveling just an arms-length away from her. It seemed like the whole world stood between her and Chat Noir now, though, as the superhero—the _boy—_began to collapse, resorting to roars without words and sobs without breath. He curled over himself, a fetal position on his knees, his claws digging into the biceps of his arms. The leather suit didn’t tear. Somehow she knew that if he could make it tear, he would’ve. Ladybug’s heart began to shatter for him, seeing the depth of this damage before her eyes. If it had been her parents…no, her parents would never. But if it had been…the betrayal, the _hurt_…it would break her. And it was breaking Chat Noir.

_Chat Noir_…

“To confirm that my son is Chat Noir is…interesting.”

“_Interesting?_” Chat Noir’s head snapped back up, “_Interesting, _that’s all you have to say to me? About me? _Interesting? Interesting! _I’m Chat Noir! I’m the savior of Paris! I’m here to stop you and end this, _once and for all!_

“And how are you to do that when you’re a crying mess on the floor?” Hawkmoth dismissed. Chat Noir froze as Ladybug’s lips curled in disgust at the villain, “Besides, you can’t do anything but destroy. The only one who could defeat _me _is Ladybug, and you are not _her_.”

He flinched as though Hawkmoth had stabbed him with his cane. Shivering, Chat Noir retreated back into his shell, strangled cries that he failed to stifle echoing in the room.

Ladybug didn’t know what to do. It didn’t even occur to her that she _should _do something, _anything. _Attack Hawkmoth, get him to shut up, or at the very least run to her destroyed friend, wrap him in her arms, comfort him as she barked back Hawkmoth’s cruel words. Hawkmoth was Chat Noir’s father. Hawkmoth was Chat Noir’s father, and she could never ever forgive him for treating his son this way. But she couldn’t move, she could barely breathe. All she could do was stare at what was in front of her, aghast. Everything Ladybug had done for her, every single thing Tikki had believed in her for, every step of confidence and self-assurance and growth seemed to shatter in that moment and she was back to the scared little girl taking her miraculous earrings off and back into the box, wishing for Tikki to find someone else to be Ladybug. Anyone. _Please_.

This shouldn’t be happening.

Hawkmoth regarded his son silently for several long moments. Then a smirk rose on his face, eerie and unpleasant. Uncrossing one of his arms, he held his palm out, waiting for a butterfly to alight on his fingertips. The betrayal, the rage, the sadness in a heap in front of him, it was so strong and sweet he could feast on the memory for weeks. He closed his hand over the butterfly.

By the time Ladybug realized what he was doing, it was too late. The akuma spanned the short distance from Hawkmoth to Chat Noir’s ring in what seemed both like the blink of an eye and slow motion at the same time. Before she knew it her yo-yo was in her hand and she was screaming.

“_No!_”

Chat Noir recoiled, skittering on all fours in a circle like an animal in pain. His miraculous hissed and buzzed as he tried to fight it off, but he succumbed. He was facing her when it happened too. Ladybug wished she had the sense to close her eyes. Darkness enveloped him, bubbling from his form as though it had burst from inside his body. She had expected the transformation to be more violent, but he was eerily calm and still as the darkness folded over and revealed him. Clad in white leather, hair still shimmering gold, the akuma stood to his full height, fists and eyes closed.

He opened his eyes. Red. Red and intense and awful and nowhere was there the boy who laughed and spewed puns and saved Paris from danger without a second thought.

“Chat Blanc,” Hawkmoth spoke from behind his son, “How you’ve longed to stand at your father’s side, to be with him, to have a relationship. I will give you that chance. But first you must do something for me. Ladybug’s miraculous…,”

She let out a small squeak, a bug feeling the cat’s claws close around her. Tightening her grip on her yo-yo, she tried to steel herself to fight one of her best friends and closest partner to save her skin or relinquish her power and quite possibly her life to someone who used to constantly profess his love to her. It was annoying, back then, god it annoyed her and she told herself long ago she’d never start anything with Chat Noir.

But god she longed for it now.

Even just a _smile_, a toothy _smirk _from him. Any of the previous times he had become possessed he at least kept that damnable smile to let her know he was at least _somewhere _underneath there. But he looked at her with a face so cold, so emotionless, he might have been a statue. The knot tightened. She wished she could puke it up.

“_Get it for me!_”

_Oh god oh god oh no oh no oh no oh no oh god please Chat Noir no no no please no Ladybug get yourself together FIGHT_

Chat Blanc’s eyes did not waver from her, steady and terrifying. He opened his cold lips.

“No.”

Ladybug started, wondering if she had heard that right. Hawkmoth too tipped his chin to the side, lips curling in confusion.

“_What?_” he snarled, knuckles tight around his cane. Though his face was still as stone, Chat Blanc’s voice was on the edge of an animalistic growl as he turned.

“I’m going to take _yours!_”

The growl turned into a yowl of rage. Claws out, sharp and visible against the dark room, Chat Blanc leaped, tackling Hawkmoth to the hard floor. Ladybug squeaked again in shock, watching as Hawkmoth struggled, practically defenseless against Chat Blanc’s onslaught. All she saw were rolling shoulders and poised claws, the muscles in his arm rippling as he tore away at Hawkmoth. Shreds of his sleek suit began to fly into the air, and Ladybug’s heart rammed so hard against her chest it hurt, bringing her back into the present. The voice that had drawn her to take the role of Ladybug, the voice that had disallowed her to walk away from the miraculous screamed in her mind.

_Fight, Ladybug, Fight!_

_Save him!!_

_Save both!!!_

With hurried motions, Ladybug summoned a lucky charm. A hand mirror dropped into her palms. She stared at her horrified reflection, pale and lost in dramatic shadows. Hawkmoth screamed in pain, summoning a swarm of his butterflies to push Chat Blanc off of him. The akuma howled, swatting and tearing at the butterflies as Hawkmoth dragged himself away, struggling to his feet. Chat Blanc raised an open palm to the air, curling his claws inwards.

“_Cataclysm!_”

It was a straight shot, and Hawkmoth was too wounded and frightened to defend against it, if he even could. Chat Blanc was all about graceful speed. Dropping to all fours with a snarl, he leaped, pulling his cataclysmic arm back before thrusting it forward, aiming for Hawkmoth’s chest.

Instead of a dark suit he saw black spots on red. He saw midnight pigtails ducked behind outstretched arms. He saw the body of a lady, _his lady_, standing between him and Hawkmoth.

And he saw his cataclysm in-between his face and hers.

Her feet skidded on the floor from the force of the impact, but he stopped.

At first there was anger. Two betrayals in one day—how dare she protect this villain, who dared called himself his father?! But it only lasted a split-second, so short he couldn’t even be convinced it was there to begin with. Ladybug was good. She was the embodiment of good. She was forgiving and kind, she admitted her mistakes, she made up for them, she, she was so, so good. She was so deserving of being Ladybug. She was so, so, so, so, so, so good and unbreakable.

He was not. He was broken. And now he was breaking the unbreakable, because cataclysm could break anything, even Ladybug.

Denial. No, he couldn’t have, it’s impossible, he couldn’t have used it on _her_, anyone but _her, _even if by _mistake. _And this wasn’t a mistake! It wasn’t meant to be! It wasn’t meant for her! Pain distorted him. He was going to watch her crumble to dust, right here, right now, right in front of him. He had watched it happen to structures and buildings innumerable amount of times. To see it happen to a body, to see it happen to his _lady_…In front of his eyes, right here, right now, right—

His reflection was distorted too. Cracked, displaced along jagged edges. His wide red eyes stared in horror at what he had done until the image rusted and dissolved. His paw hung uselessly in the air between Ladybug’s outstretched arms.

Ladybug looked up into the space where the hand mirror had been. Had she been just a millimeter off, had she failed to time it just right, had Chat Blanc’s arm been a little bit higher or lower, she’d be dead. But his palm had hit the mirror, cracked it. The story of a monster had come to her mind as she watched him summon cataclysm, the idea that only a mirror could show someone’s true form and they’d be shaken to their knees by the revelation of their true self. It was just a fairy tale from her childhood, but in this moment, it was more than just a tale.

Chat Blanc stared at her, red eyes to blue, as though he was still waiting for her to crumble to dust. Ladybug wasted no time and swung her yo-yo, cracking it between his eyes. Chat Blanc slumped onto her shoulder. Hoisting him up higher, she didn’t even turn to look at Hawkmoth before she swung her yo-yo and bounded out of sight.

Paris was falling into twilight. Ladybug skimmed across rooftops and zig-zagged between buildings, going where, she didn’t know, just far, far enough away from the Agreste mansion. She only stopped with Chat Blanc’s weight began to strain her as the adrenaline began to fail. She landed on a secluded rooftop, shielded by statues and guard rails. As she rolled Chat Blanc’s body off of her shoulder, her miraculous beeped for the first time. She stood up and looked at him.

The akuma was in his ring, and she was running out of time. If she pulled his ring off he would transform immediately, and akuma or not, she could not betray his trust like that, not after what had already happened to him. For a hot second she seriously considered stomping his hand, regardless of how many bones she would break in order to break the ring (if she even could, considering it was a miraculous.)

No. She was over-thinking this. She didn’t have to cause him any more pain. Ladybug knelt down, fingers dancing over his ring. Licking her lips in preparation, she removed the ring, turned around, stomped on it, cleansed the akuma, and sat down all in what seemed to be one smooth motion. She watched his miraculous fix itself back together in a swarm of ladybugs, and she heard him transform behind her. His kwami wailed pitifully, landing on the ground with a very pained _oomf_. He coughed, aching and weak. She shut her eyes, pain welling up inside of her. The knot in her stomach hadn’t left, it had simply been pushed from her mind until it was safe to feel it again. It was only worse now, even though they were far away from Hawkmoth and his evil, hurtful words against his son. Chat Blanc—Chat Noir, or whoever was behind the mask, stirred, breathing weakly. She kept her eyes fixed on the ring between her feet.

Her miraculous beeped, startling him awake faster than he should’ve been. She heard him scuffle in confusion, then with an inhaled gasp he breathed.

“_Ladybug…,_”

“I promise I didn’t look at you,” she whispered back without turning her head, “I promise.”

He was quiet for a moment before his voice, so soft and small compared to when he roared at Hawkmoth, responded, “I…I know. I trust you,”

“It was the only way to get you back.” She explained, even though he had already said it was okay.

“Is—,” he choked, trying to fix his words onto something else, “Is the miraculous still…,”

“I have it,” she answered without bringing attention to his struggles, “The akuma is gone.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, relative to the situation. Shuddering, he dipped his head to the cool stone beneath him, and she heard him breathe in a very strict pattern, forcing himself to calm down. She allowed him to, until her miraculous beeped again.

“What do you remember?” She had tried to make it as gentle as possible, but there was no way to phrase that without it sounding slightly disappointed, slightly accusatory—even though she hadn’t meant it.

“…Everything,” Chat Noir moaned in despair. His kwami mimicked him, though not in a mocking way, and in his small exhausted voice the kwami spoke up, rasping.

“You’re welcome for that,” he said, “I did everything I could to keep you here.”

Chat Noir blubbered, shocked to hear such words of protection and devotion coming from his sarcastic, lazy kwami. Plagg moaned, rocking himself into a catatonic slumber to heal from the poison the akuma gave him. Ladybug’s miraculous beeped for the third time. Chat Noir fought past his tears. She could feel his eyes on her, and though she knew they were supposedly green again she could only see the red ones in her mind’s eye.

“Ladybug,” he pleaded, “Your miraculous, you’re about to—,”

“I know,” she kept her voice low and quiet. She knew this couldn’t be wrapped up in the time the miraculous gave them. Without moving, she continued, arms resting on her knees, “Please turn around.”

He scraped against the stone until he finally settled then gave her an _okay. _Stars that fought against the City of Lights twinkled in the darkening sky. Ladybug raised her head to them, and swallowed hard.

“We know it’s your father. How do we get to him?”

Chat Noir choked again, but bit it back down. The questions needed to be answered, and who knows what sort of trouble they were in now. He had basically revealed himself to Hawkmoth—there was no telling what the villain would do now. Fighting past the bricks in his throat, he answered, albeit with a spit of disgust.

“Who knows, he's—he’s never around. He doesn’t _care_.”

“So…So I gathered,” Ladybug answered mournfully. Her miraculous beeped again. Two minutes.

“How can we find him?” she continued.

“I don’t know,” Chat Noir muttered into his knees, giving up before even trying.

“And he knows who you are now,” Ladybug pointed out even though she knew it was starting to process in his brain now.

“Yes,” he wailed. Ladybug paused, musing over her next question.

“Will you go home?”

The question had caught him off-guard. Up until this point she was asking business questions, and though it was in a gentle voice it was very emotionless. Hawkmoth. How do we get to Hawkmoth. How do we stop this evil. Nothing else matters. It was calculated, cold perhaps, but it was what they needed in order to push themselves forward through this near-tragedy. Chat Noir was expecting most anything after her previous statement, even a lecture from her; _how dare you rush in, how dare you act on anger and emotions, how dare you open yourself up to becoming akumatized like that, how dare you betray our partnership, how dare you make me fight you, this is your fault, don’t screw up again._ Words he wouldn’t have dreamed of hearing Ladybug say, but words he was afraid of her saying anyways.

But…_will you go home_. This was a question threaded with different colors, all harmonious. _Will you go home_, where will you be? _Will you go home_, can and will you open yourself up to danger and harm? _Will you go home_, should I be worried about you? _Will you go home_, do you have a place to stay? _Will you go home, _do you want a place to stay?

_Will you go home, _I’m scared for you, Chat. I want you to be safe. I want to know you’re safe.

Silence.

Her miraculous made it’s final beeps. She had one minute.

“Chat Noir?”

He tried to mask his crying. He had cried enough already, goddammit, and now in front of her alone there was no reason for him to be crying like this. Saltwater plagued him through his teeth as he tried to breathe it away, keeping himself tucked into his knees. When he answered, the words that came out were different than the words he wanted to say. He wanted to remain confident, he wanted to remain sure of himself and cocky and nonchalant. Care-free and reckless. He wanted to be Chat Noir. Not…Adrien.

“I don’t have one,” he blubbered, shaking all over. Ladybug was quiet. It made him spill over the edge.

“I don’t have one, please, I need a place to stay, I don’t wanna go home, _please, _he might be there, and Plagg, and I, and—what happened, and I don't—what if I—what if _he—_,”

Ladybug transformed, the spots disappearing to plain old Marinette. She cupped her hands in her lap for Tikki to land in. The little kwami stared up at her chosen, as sad as she was. He continued to cry behind them.

“Ladybug,” he sobbed, “_Please_. It doesn’t have to be you, it—it could be one of your friends that you trust, or, or something,”

Marinette closed her eyes. At the time Chat Noir didn’t tell her that Hawkmoth was his father and that’s how he had found out—it had been reason enough just that he had located him to go in guns blazing. She mulled over the events of the past few hours. Hawkmoth resided in the Agreste mansion. It had shocked her at the time, but as the events unfolded her mind pieced together the answers behind her conscious. Funny, she had always thought that this sort of shocking revelation would be up front and dramatic, not quiet and behind closed doors. It was weird. It didn’t hurt that she had figured it all out, it didn’t seem like it would shake her whole world like she thought it would. Maybe it was because in comparison Chat Noir’s crumbling was much more _real _than hers would be, knowing who Hawkmoth was and by deduction figuring out who Chat Noir was. She was…calm.

Calm for his sake.

“Please Ladybug I don’t have enough friends, I have one friend—but my father, he knows about him, he doesn’t trust him, if I go to him I’m afraid he'll—,”

“Okay.” Marinette said. Tikki closed her eyes and huddled into her warmth, giving her support. Marinette breathed deeply, then stood up and turned around to offer her hand. There she saw the back of his head, the golden perfect mess of hair she had been seeing every single day at this exact angle at school since the year began. Her heart is racing again, but for reasons she had never felt before. Different than confronting Hawkmoth, different than confronting Hawkmoth’s son, Adrien Agreste. She struggled to keep her face still. She could feel the heat turning her face bright red despite her best efforts, she could feel the hot thin tears brimming along the bottom of her eyelids in her outpouring of empathy, she could feel her mouth knit together in a wavy line, struggling to keep her composure and not fail for Chat Noir, not now, not ever. Maybe later she could allow herself to freak out as Marinette so often would. But Chat Noir, Adrien, didn’t need Marinette right now. He needed Ladybug.

Mask or no mask.

Adrien jumped at the blurry image of her hand in his peripheral vision. He gulped, gasped for air, then turned to look at her fingers that seemed far too delicate to be fighting crime. His eyes follow her arm up to her face, seeing it the way she felt it. Everything about her was human—so ugly and human—the flushed face, the wavered line of her mouth, the painful tears. It could’ve been for any reason, it could be because she was revealing herself and she didn’t want to, it could be for the very same reasons he broke down and cried in front of Hawkmoth—betrayal, anger, sadness that he let himself get akumatized. But he recognized them as something else, because even though her face wasn’t strong god her gaze was. God her gaze was so strong, so steady and kind, the way he knew Ladybug would be. The tears were of pain, yes, but the pain of empathy. Funny, stupid how he recognized them simply because he had never seen anyone look at him that way before, so by deduction there was no other emotion it could possibly be but that one. Her gaze is strong. Her gaze was _so strong_, and she was going to own up to that strength so long as he took her hand so she could guide him some place safe.

He would’ve never ever believed that this gaze, this promise was coming from this girl was he not seeing this with his own eyes, had he not seen the ladybug kwami curled into her sweet, soft neck.

“_M-Marinette_…?”


End file.
